Regular Days
by Saiyan Werewolf
Summary: Lexi Hawethorn gets tired of her boring 'ol life. But when a massive storm hits her home town, the RE characters are now in the real world! Lexi needs to put up with chaos and try to send them back to where they belong. But the only question is... How did they get here?
1. Part 1: The Storm

Ah, hello my fellow readers, and or my fanfiction friends. I have been extremely busy, as you can imagine. Another year at college, blah, blah, blah. I have been thinking about this story for awhile. I mean, it's been stuck in my head since August.

I was talking to my uncle and told him my idea. He gave me ideas and told me I should write this story. I know I have had failures, and embarrassing stories that make me blush if I even think about them.

This will not be one of those failures. (I hope, I hope, I hope, I hope...)

I have been plotting so much stuff in my head for this story... It clogs my brain of things I am SUPPOSED to be learning. I couldn't take it anymore, so here.

By the way, this story is about cliches. So, can you spot them all? :D

*ALSO, I SUCK AT BEGINNINGS!

Disclaimer: I do not own RE in any way, shape or form. Capcom owns it.

* * *

I sit by my window in my room. A brutal storm is raging through... It's nighttime, but you still see the rain drops beating against the window.

Today was like any other normal day. Get up in the morning, sleep for five more minutes, wake up at the last second, and struggle to be ready for the day. College was brutal for everyone, but I say waking up for it sucks even more. Life wasn't very great, considering nothing usually ever happens in my boring life. Well, that happens when I have to go...

Sure I've done things that have entertained me, but nothing will truly satisfy the fact that I have a dull schedule. I sigh, as I spin around in my computer chair. Today is a Saturday night, and I figure that I should be updating some of my old stories. I might as well try, because I might not get another chance to do this. After all, there is a bad storm outside. There's nothing else to do.

There is only one problem though; my muse. It's like a bonfire, flaming with new ideas I just cannot get out of my head. But when I sit down to write or update my stories, it immediately goes out like a power outage in a giant city. Scumbag brain... More like a troll brain.

"Gah... Why I can't my muse come to me when I actually _need it?!_" I growl in frustration while spinning irritability around in my chair.

I was thinking of continuing some of my old stories and even writing a new one. I open up some story files, hoping I can continue on to where I left off with my old stories. I click on a one, and skim through it.

"Wow, this story is really old. I haven't written anything for it since 2011..." I mutter, as I scroll through the story.

As I go through more files containing various plots and characters, my computer screen begins to fuzz.

"What the Hell!?" I get up out of my chair, and check the plugs below the table.

Everything is plugged in... But if that was the case, then why did it start to fuzz? This isn't fucking Slender, it's my computer! Not a camera!

"Great, the minute I get motivation, my computer DIES on me! Stupid storm!" I growl irritably, remembering that there is a storm going on.

With loss of interest, I leave my room in defeat, hoping the television won't die on me like the computer did. I walk down the staircase and into my living room. I plop myself on the couch, grab the remote, and turn on the T.V. The channel I left it on was the news, and the T.V. was still working... I flip through channels, only see weather broadcasts.

Every channel I went through, was an emergency warning about the weather. I stopped, and began watching the broadcast.

"_Within the Troposphere, lies a massive storm! This storm is powerful enough to effect the-causing catastrophic damage to entire-Please stay inside, and get to shelter as soon as possible,_" a woman says, with her voice getting choppy from the crappy connection which only left me thinking, _what the Hell?_

I honestly thought it was a load of garbage. But hey, I'm no meteorologist. All I know is that if the storm outside gets worse... Well, it'll get worse of course. What? You think I know what's going to happen?

I turn off my T.V., and run up to my bedroom. Maybe I could sleep through this? Or maybe I could sleep in the living room... Hey, I don't have basement! Nor would I consider sleeping in one...

I grab two pillows off my bed, and my giant wolf blanket. I turn the light off behind me, and head downstairs. As I'm walking down the stairs, the lights I left on (the living room and hall light), begin to flicker on and off. The power was going out. I could hear the wind howling at my windows, even as I came down the staircase into my living room!

I quickly run down the stairs, and run to my couch. I throw the pillows on the end of the couch, and lay down with my blanket covering me as the power completely goes out. I begin to close my eyes, hoping to drift off into a deep sleep...

* * *

My eyelids begin to open heavily, as I come to consciousness. I soon realize that I'm not on my couch, I'm in my room. My eyes are blurry, my hair is a greasy mess, and my body feels like it's dead.

"Ah, you're finally awake... I have some questions for you..." I hear a dark, yet really familiar voice.

"Dammit Jeice, if you were coming you didn't have to be creepy and carry me to my bedroom, I was perfectly fine on the couch," I grumble, thinking it's only my pyro, cosplaying friend.

"Miss, I suggest you open your eyes."

I begin to stretch my back, and twist it. I am so not a morning person. I finally open my eyes to see a full grown man standing in my door frame. Dressed in a black tuxedo, sunglasses, blond hair that looks a bit messy, and wearing a blank expression.

My eyes open. Now they're really open.

"Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Get the Hell out of my house, you Wesker wannabe!" I hollar at the stranger, as I throw my pillow at him.

Without any effort, he merely swipes it away from him.

"Who the Hell are you!?"

"Well, you seem to know," the man says with a small smirk on his face.

I freeze completely. Wesker!? As in, _the _Albert Wesker!? The Resident Evil Wesker!? This was impossible. But here he stood.

_Albert Wesker._

_Fuck my life. Seriously._

* * *

Cliffhanger? Eh, probably not. Too fast of a chapter? You know it. But I promise, they will be longer. Should I add more to this? Shea! Please leave a review if you enjoyed it, and hope to see more.

Flames will not be tolerated. The explanation for how this happened will be explained... If Lexi can figure out how! XD

~SW


	2. Part 2: WESKER?

Six reviews. Six already! I come home, and see that people reviewed, favorited, and added this story to your alerts. I love you guys! :D

I know this idea has been done, but trust me guys! I have like, so many good ideas. This is basically a story without a plot. Makes sense? No. But... You'll see what I mean. That is, if you're willing to stick around.

Ever seen Regular Show? Yeah, that's my inspiration for this title. And the some of the things in this story...

And there's alot of fourth wall breaking.

Disclaimer: I don't own RE. Capcom does.

* * *

Oh God! How did this happen?! How is this even possible?!

"I'm in coma! I'm having a near death experience!" I tried to convince myself that none of this was real.

There was just no way in Hell that this was happening. Wesker only sighed.

"Listen, calm yourself down. I can assure this is very real. I don't know how got into your home, or how this has happened," Wesker says, as he patiently waits for me stop freaking out.

I breath in and out. This is real. This wasn't just some video game, or a daydream, or one of those fanfictions where the character is hopeless on what to do in a situation like this. I had to figure something out. I needed to just... Deal with this for awhile. After all, Wesker seems more logical and calmer than me. Great.

"I would introduce myself, but you seem to know me already. You will explain that, but I need to your own first."

I am nervous. Telling Wesker that he came from a video game? That he shouldn't even exist as person in this world? Great. You just had blurt his name out of fear, didn't you? Dumbass.

"My name is Lexi Hawethorn. But most people call me 'Lex'." I shrug.

"Well, Miss Hawethorn, if you don't mind I would like to use your services until I can better accustom myself here," Wesker says, with a tone in his voice that practically screams to me: "Bitch, I own you. You will tell me everything you know about me, next I probably will use you as a lab rat. Then I will kill you once I'm done with you."

_Yeah. Thanks Wesker. I feel special._

"Yeah yeah, fine..." I say, instead of speaking my mind.

I get off my bed, and Wesker walks out of my room when I do. It's creepy. Having an older man Hell-bent on enslaving the human race in your home. It's really creepy if you think about how he grabs you off the couch and puts you back into your room. Now that I think of it, I notice he doesn't look like the Resident Evil 5 Wesker. He looks like Resident Evil 4 Wesker. Hm. Does that mean this Wesker is different?

The Resident Evil 4 Wesker didn't go insane and try to kill all human beings with a tentacle virus. I honestly thought they were the same... But I guess the appearence, voice, and different intentions mean they're not the same Wesker. Right? Well, I'm honestly not sure. A man's voice doesn't change unless they're going through puberty. Unless Wesker went through puberty at like, age 30.

If that's honestly the case, then that's just frigged up. I walk into the kitchen, and Wesker just stands in the door frame of the kitchen. And honestly, Wesker really creeps me out. I think it's because of the sunglasses. The color of his eyes don't necessarily scare me. It's where and what he is looking at. Every time I have played RE5, I swear he's looking at me when he's just looking at Chris and Sheva. It creeps me out.

I look back at him. He's looking back at me.

"What?" I growl irritably.

"Nothing. I haven't done a thing. Nor have I said a word."

"Well, do you want something to eat?"

"That would be polite of you, so yes. I would, Miss Hawethorn."

Well, honestly things have just only gotten awkward. Might as well try and figure out if he has any prior memories before friggen teleporting into my house. Well, you know what I mean.

"Well, I have cereal... Bread, and eggs. That's it for breakfast food," I say finally, trying to break the silence.

"That's _it?_" Wesker says, rather unimpressed.

"Well, gee. I'm sorry," I say, using sarcasm. "I'm not really much of a breakfast person."

"No? Well, I suggest you maintain a healthier diet."

I wasn't going to stand here, and let Wesker tell me what to do. Of course, he has a valid point, but that's boring. Who wants to sit here, and read about one of the greatest antagonists of all time tell a young woman how to eat? I sure as Hell would just bail out too if I was reading something time that.

While Wesker was rummaging through my cupboards for a skillet (I'm guessing it's most likely a skillet), I begin to walk out of the kitchen.

"Going somewhere?" Wesker asks, without even turning around.

That is just creepy.

"Uh, yeah. I feel nasty, and I need to get a change of clothes. I have no idea what you do with those hands of yours..." I shudder at that thought.

* * *

I come back downstairs, and into the kitchen. Wesker is sitting at the table, and is eating. He doesn't even have to say anything to me. He expects me to sit down, and answer all these questions. Great.

I sit from across him, and I try to avoid looking at him. My eyes fly anywhere that isn't Wesker's face.

"So, tell me," he says, looking straight at me, "how do you know of me?"

He's giving me a look. A look that says: "Look at me when I'm speaking to you."

The first thing that comes to my head, comes right out of my mouth.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I say back instantly.

Wesker chuckles.

"Miss Hawethorn, I've heard excuses and stories that could only fool a child. I will if you are lying or not, if you simply just tell me."

"Okay. But I'm going to be totally honest. If you do not believe me, I have proof..."

"Go on..."

"You're from..."

Wesker raises a brow.

"From a...?"

"A-A... You, are from a..."

"_A_ what?" Wesker was becoming more impatient and irritated.

"A vid..."

"I am becoming very impatient with you-"

"You're from a popular video game series! There! I said it!"

Wesker was silent. That must've sunken in.

"Well, I just told you the truth. That is the honest truth."

"...Hn." Wesker grumbled.

"What? You don't believe me?"

"It's just surprising, I don't know what to believe. On one hand, I find your claim absolutely ridiculous. On the other, I feel you are telling the truth. If I am not supposed to be here, then I'm fictional, if anything."

"Yeah. You're fictional in this world..."

"Then there is one thing I must do. Miss Hawethorn, you will help me get back to where I belong. Until then, I will be staying with you."

_Fuck._

* * *

Cliffhanger, I know. But at least the chapter was longer. I tried to make it funny and a little bit serious... There will be more of a plot in the first few chapters.

I hope you enjoyed this.

~SW


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